Licence To Kill II: Einstein
by Leonora Chris
Summary: Yet another story about the time when Margaret Eppes was dying and after she did. Why and how Charlie got lost in his numbers and how rest of the family grieved. Also, little hints of the secret life Charlie has been living without anyone knowing. Pre-series. Second in the License To Kill series.


_**(I don't own NUMB3RS or the characters etc from it, only the story is mine.)**_

**So this is part two of the series and also my first Numb3rs story.  
**

_**Leo**_

* * *

Charlie Eppes opened the door and stepped inside as quietly as he could. It was in the middle of the night so it was dark. The silence scared him and for a moment he feared that while he'd been gone, it had finally happened. His mother was dead.

He was scared to the point where he was hanging on to a very small thread of sanity, which kept him from turning into a raving maniac, mumbling equations as they finally became the only reality for him. The only thing he saw, heard and felt. Very few understood that being born a genius was not all joy and fun. It was more than just a blessing. It was a curse. The double-edged sword. And the coin always had two sides. Something which most people seemed to either forget or simply ignore. And some were willingly ignorant.

His numbers were both his anchor to sanity and the doorway to insanity. Until now his mother had been that separating line between the two. His strength and his safe place.

It wasn't that he could really hold it against them and he knew it, but his father and brother didn't understand and sometimes he wondered if they had ever really tried. They couldn't understand that it was out of his hands. That his behavior wasn't because he _wanted_ to be away from his mother. They couldn't understand that if he wouldn't be writing the numbers down, getting them out of his head, he would go with her.

The world to him was literally an endless flow of numbers and equations. Beautiful, wondrous and sometimes a little fearsome. His mind didn't get rest from it even in his sleep. Even his dreams were filled with numbers one way or another. He was too weak to be able to fight it anymore. While his body may or may not survive, his mind surely wouldn't. Only his mother understood the way it worked and with her gone, who else would? He would be lost without her. So he had to find the answer.

It wasn't as if he had never been there for her either. For the longest time he had been there with his father, helping her and loving her. Acting brave and strong. Going through those endless treatments, which didn't seem to help at all. Only made things worse and her last moments more agonizing. He had tried to keep thinking that they could beat this. It was this last stage, when it finally became too much. All that stress and the secret fear of losing her. The burden from all those long days, _months_, and still the doctors were doing this to them, saying she's dying...

Since then, something inside him shattered and his mind did what it could do best: Seek comfort and answers from the numbers.

The answer had to be somewhere in his numbers... He could feel it. Something that could fix it all... If he couldn't do it, then who else could..? He was the genius, the one who was supposed to be doing great things in his life... If this wasn't it, then for what reason was his 'gift'?

Glancing over his shoulder, Charlie almost went back in the garage and it took every ounce of his willpower to keep walking away.

He needed to see his mother. Just once. To make sure she still understood why and was still fine with it, that she didn't see the son she had spent so much time with. Raising him to be something great. All those big dreams and plans she'd had for him since he was barely a three years old. All planned out for him and now she was never going to be there for any of them. For what reason had he given up normal childhood and a family life, without any complaints, if she wouldn't be there guiding his way anymore? Pointing him to the right direction, just like she had done his entire life? For what reason had they all sacrificed their lives?

Silently, like a shadow in the night, he made it through the darkness towards the bedroom where his mother was. He almost changed his mind again, seeing his father sleeping there next to his wife. At least Don was sleeping in his childhood bedroom. He didn't think he could sneak past the FBI Agent.

Small lamp was giving some light in the room and Charlie was on the verge of tears when he finally saw his mother. He thought he could do this, but now he wasn't so sure. Seeing her... She looked so much worse than last time... When was it anyway? It could very well be centuries for all he knew. It certainly felt like it. It was ironic that while the numbers where everything he was, he had completely lost his sense of time.

He felt almost weightless, like he could fly if he tried and he was about to turn around and flee, when a soft voice stopped him. "Charlie..?"

"Mom... I... I thought you were sleeping..." Charlie swallowed.

As weak as she now was, she was still smiling at him. She was still... She was still being _mom_. His best friend. His only friend for most of his life. His guide and advisor. The one he always turned to whenever he was unsure of things other than the numbers. The one who always made sure he took care of himself. The one who... _God_... He couldn't deal with a life without her... It would be meaningless.

"Come here..." Margaret frowned as she studied her youngest and she didn't like what she saw. The boy looked like he belonged in a deathbed himself. Why hadn't Alan and Don told her? Of course she could see the 'why', but it still upset her. She had the right to know these things.

"Dad..." Charlie looked at his father who was snoring next to her.

"Don't worry about your father... He's been awake for days... Nothing is going to wake him up now... Come..."

At first he took few tentative steps like a small child walking for the first time, but when his mother held her arms towards him despite how weak she was, he ran and fell on his knees next to the bed. With his head on the bed next to her, he started crying. Asking for her forgiveness.

Margaret shed a few tears of her own as he kept brushing her fingers through those messy curls she loved so much. After a while even her willpower couldn't get her to move her hand anymore so she just held it there. Seeing the state her little genius was in, she felt fear. She had already made her peace with dying, but now... With her gone, who would look after Charlie? Who would make sure he didn't join her? Who would keep him safe? Who else knew how to bring him back, when he got lost in his own world? Who else would recognize the first warning signs and stop him before he got in too deep?

She would be leaving behind a broken family and not for the first time she blamed herself for having done this to their family, in order to fulfill her own desire to give Charlie the best education. Had she ever asked if he even wanted that life? She couldn't remember... She had made Charlie live a big part of his life without a father and Don without a mother... Both of them without a brother. She needed more time to fix things between her boys, but it was too late now...

"Oh baby..." she whispered.

Charlie turned his head so that his cheek was resting against the bed and his eyes stared brokenly at his mother. And to think he had started this journey with a hope. So sure that she would make it when the diagnosis first came, and for a while even after the doctors gave her the death sentence in numbers. _Numbers_... Everything was always about numbers... So it felt only logical that the miracle which could save her, should also be somewhere in the numbers. And since he was the one with that gift, the ability to see that world, it had to be him to find out the answer. It had to.

"Mom..." he whispered in almost childlike voice and Margaret felt a whole new heartache fill her mother's heart.

"It'll be alright..."

"I'm scared..." Charlie sobbed. Now, away from the safety of his garage, the reality was starting to crash on him again and the numbers were back stronger than ever. It made him dizzy. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he hadn't been eating for since God only knows when.

"I know... I know, but Charlie... You will still have Donnie and dad."

"Not same..."

Margaret frowned again. She could see that her son was struggling. She didn't like it, but she understood. "Charlie... Charlie, baby... It's okay... I understand..."

"I'm so weak... I'm sorry mom... You deserve better than... Than _this_."

"Nonsense..."

"It's true... Don is always so strong and I am... I'm such a..."

"Stop that... Don't you dare finish that. Who came with me to every treatment? Who was the one who read to me every night, when I was getting too tired to even hold a book? Who tried to find other treatments, when the doctors gave up? Gave me strength to keep fighting? You were very brave... Now, do your mother a favor... Eat something and try to get some sleep... I will explain your situation to your dad and brother."

Standing up, Charlie was struggling between wanting to stay and not being able to handle this. Wrapping his arms around her frail body, he hugged her. "I love you mom... More than anything..."

"I love you too, baby..."

Giving a kiss on her forehead and with last glance at the door, he left. Remembering her words, he made a sandwich in the kitchen and ate it in the darkness without any appetite. He might have as well been eating a piece of cardboard, with some more cardboard on top of it.

Back in the garage, he was soon back in the world of his own. Surrounded by his numbers. His comfort, his friend and his enemy. The only thing which made sense to him anymore. People... Life... He couldn't handle any of that. Not that he had much practice, since numbers were all he had ever been his whole life... Some might say that the way he'd been raised, surrounded by the numbers on top of those in his head, had only made things worse. So by the time he became legally adult, the numbers were the only thing he was comfortable with. His safety blanket and the only thing that had never let him down.

Until now. Even the numbers couldn't save his mother, and somewhere deep down he knew it, but it didn't stop him from trying...

Margaret lay awake for a little while longer. Fighting the sleep. She worried that Alan and Don would not understand and she had no idea how to explain their youngest to them. Perhaps she had made a mistake by taking it all on herself. Maybe if she had allowed Alan to take a bigger role in raising Charlie, he would have a better understanding how the mind of their genius worked and reacted in different situations. Maybe if she had let the brothers grow together more like normal brothers, they wouldn't now be complete strangers...

Margaret felt deep regret and doubt over her many choices throughout her life, but it was now too late. "Dear Lord... Give my boys strength, understanding and forgiveness... and comfort... when I'm gone..."

* * *

"Come on, Charlie! Mom is dying! How can you do this to her!? To_ us_! We need you!" Don screamed, but as usual his words never got through the wall of numbers between him and his little brother who had a dazed and feverish look in his eyes, never stopping writing down his equations. Those damned numbers which seemed to be having almost like some sort of devilish hold on his brother.

Covered in chalk dust and his clothes hanging loosely over his skin and bones body, it had been days since Charlie's secret timeout with their mother.

"Charlie... _Please_..." Don felt like crying as he went back to pleading. It was like watching a contest. Who would drop dead first? Their mother or Charlie, who was literally killing himself in the garage.

Taking hold of the small shoulders, he turned Charlie around and pushed him harshly against one of the blackboards. Shaking him, he was screaming again. "How can you be so selfish!?"

Charlie's glazed eyes kept looking frantically around the room, but not once looking at Don. The look in his eyes was almost half mad, but whatever it was, he was never there with them. In this world.

"Charlie! Look at me!"

Trying without success to shake some sense into his brother, Don finally let go and watched in disgust as Charlie was back to writing as if nothing had happened. "Mom needs you. If she dies and you weren't there for her... That's what you want to live with for the rest of your life?"

As if he was going to get an answer... Don shook his head again. "I don't care anymore. I'll wash my hands of you. I won't be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, Charlie. When that day comes, I hope you realize that you did it to yourself. That _you_ made that happen."

Leaving the garage in fury, Don never heard the hitch in breath. Never saw the hand holding the chalk hovering over the blackboard. Never saw the trembling shoulders and a lonely tear escaping the prison it had been kept in.

"Donnie..." Charlie whispered. The sound of a phone ringing in the quiet room startled him and without really even realizing it, he moved to where he had left it. The name on the screen flashed. '_JamesB_'. Charlie spoke in the phone with a voice that was odd mixture of monotone and broken. "Roger..."

_"Einstein! Boss called us. Didn't you read the text? You didn't show up and I started worrying..."_

Charlie frowned, annoyed when the man wouldn't stop talking. This was disturbing his flow of thoughts. Disturbing the numbers. "Texts..?"

_"Hey... You know you can trust me, right..? Your secrets are safe with me... So, what's wrong?"_

Charlie stared at the wall in front of his eyes. The numbers were getting angry again. Demanding his attention.

_"Are you still there?"_

"Mom..."

_"How is she? It's been years since I last saw her."_

"She's dying..."

_"I'm... Man... Einstein... I'm so sorry..."_

"Not your fault..."

Roger snapped. _"And neither is it yours. I know you. Please tell me you're not doing the P versus NP thing again."_

Silence was the answer he got and he swore quietly. _"Einstein... You promised..."_

"Sorry..." Charlie picked up the chalk again and walked back to his blackboards.

_"Alright. That does it. I'm coming over. I'll let the boss know where he can stick the work. Another one up there won't make a difference."_

"I'm fine."

_"I can see that I've been rubbing off on you... You're obviously not fine... Let me help."_

"My family is here..."

There was uncomfortable silence. Family was after all a taboo subject to the other man. Normally Charlie would be feeling terribly guilty, but this time he was only barely there among the living, to even acknowledge it.

_"Alright... Listen. I can handle this job on my own. It's sounds simple enough this time. The boss doesn't have to know. You take care of your mother and yourself. I'll call you once the work is done. Okay? Promise me you try to snap out of it by then. I want my friend and partner back."_

"Okay..."

_"Attaboy..."_

Ending the call, Charlie stared at the blackboards. His brains had already erased any memory of the phone call. The numbers were calling him and without any understanding of when and how, he was again back to work.

* * *

The day it finally happened, he knew it before anyone told him. It was like he could feel it in his body. Like part of his heart and soul had been ripped away from him, making him feel incomplete. Out of place and balance. Lost. Even the numbers hid in that moment when it finally hit him.

It was early in the morning and the sun had just started raising when Charlie finally put down the piece of chalk. His numbers had calmed down suddenly as pure dread started to fill him. He heard someone walking closer to the door with heavy steps. Stopping and then hesitating whether to come in or not. He kept his eyes at the door. Praying in his mind silently. _Don't come in... Please don't... If you do, then I know for sure..._

Slowly the door opened and Don stepped inside. Looking unsure how to be and what to say. He looked haggard and pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. He hadn't been in the garage since the time when his fury nearly turned into violence against his own brother. He had been too scared to come. Scared of his own temper mixed with worry and scared to see how much worse Charlie would look since the last time.

He looked at his little brother who just stood there. Staring at him with clear and pain stricken eyes. Don froze, seeing how much more weight Charlie had lost again and he wondered how he was even standing. In a moment of anger he wondered why their dad, who had been bringing Charlie something to eat and drink every day, hadn't told him how bad it was. He had a right to know.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Charlie spoke with a small voice and Don swallowed hard. Not allowing himself to cry. He knew he had to be the strong one in this family. Despite his mother's _'it's okay to cry sometimes'_ advice.

"Yes Charlie. Few minutes ago."

"Oh..." Charlie stared at Don and then at his chalk covered hands. As if unsure what to do with them. "I could feel it... The moment she was gone, it was as if she took me with her..." he spoke softly and looked at Don again, with wide eyes.

Don felt like someone had punched him in the gut, hoping Charlie wasn't thinking of doing anything stupid. That would be the death strike to this family. "Charlie... Buddy..."

"She left and now there's a hole in me, Donnie... I feel... I don't..." Charlie furrowed his brows and looked at his hands again before looking Don in the eyes for the first time since... forever. "She's gone, isn't she?"

Don, forgetting for a moment his own grief, blinked and felt concerned. What little color there had been on Charlie's face, it was gone. He looked like a corpse, standing there. He looked so much like their mother's dead body. The only difference was that he was still alive, more or less.

"Yes, buddy. She's gone..."

Charlie brushed his hand over his head. "Oh... Donnie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think mom would like it if I'd show her what I've been working on?"

"Buddy..."

"I made a huge progress you know. Big leap actually. I'm so close to solving it. I have to show it to her." Saying that, Charlie turned around and started gathering his notebooks and papers, scattered all over the garage. All filled with numbers and equations which he had copied from the blackboards. His shoulders were trembling and he refused to look at his brother again, but then suddenly Don was there and he had his arms around Charlie and no amount of struggling got him out of the hold of his big FBI brother and he had already let himself go weak and sick from starvation alone.

"Let me go, Don... I-I... I need to... Need to make sure I ha-haven't missed anything..."

"Charlie... Mom is gone... She's dead..."

Charlie ignored the words and forced himself to focus on his numbers, but for some reason they were out of his reach and his mind was a mass of chaos. Like a bomb which was about to go off. All the emotions which had been kept locked away.

"Let me go!" he snapped and started struggling for real, but the arms around him didn't move.

"It's okay... I'm here..." Don whispered in Charlie's ear as he forced his brother to sit down on the floor with him. Not once letting go.

"No... No, no, _no_! You can't do this! I-I have to... I..." Charlie was gasping for breath as the panic finally reached him.

"Mom said she loves us... loves you... She didn't want to leave us, buddy. But it was her time... She had suffered enough..." Don felt sick for speaking out their mother's words _'it was her time'_. In reality he wanted to scream_ 'No! It can't be her time!'_

Charlie struggled until he went limp. For a moment Don though he had passed out, but then after a moment of silence, a low wailing sound filled the garage and in a few seconds the wailing was loud and heartbreaking. Still, Don only held him stronger in a grip which would leave a few bruises. While he still refused to cry, he needed this just as much as his brother. That closeness.

"Shhh... It'll be alright..."

"No!"

"Just let it out..." Don's voice was trembling and if possible, the wailing only grew louder.

Inside the house, in their bedroom where she still lay, Alan heard it and he started crying even more. To the very last breath, he had held on to the hope that maybe they would be granted a miracle. Charlie hadn't been the only one living in denial. While he had let everyone think that he had come to accept the situation, in reality he had never let go of hope. What was he going to do now, with her gone?

* * *

The day of the funeral was stormy, grey and rainy. Perfect. As if the Heaven itself was angry with the world. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The small group of people standing by the colorful grave took their time before joining the ones who had already left. The father and his two sons didn't even notice that they were getting wet under the heavy rain. At least it would hide any tears.

Despite the situation, Alan couldn't help but feel proud of his two sons. Don had proven just how strong he could be. Holding them all together when _he_ as a father should have been there for his boys.

As for Charlie... His youngest had already passed out twice, in the car on the way to the funeral and few minutes before it was time to carry the coffin. Somehow he had pulled out some hidden strength and had refused to let anyone take his place carrying it. He had succeeded and was now looking like he was about to pass out for the third time that day.

"Whoa..." Don took hold of his brother when he was starting to fall. Holding Charlie, he forced himself to ignore how small he was and how he could most likely carry him around in his arms like he would a small child, just as easily. "Let's go home and get some food in you, buddy..."

Charlie shuddered at the thought and allowed himself to be taken to their car.

After last of the people had gone, a man walked slowly to the grave, wearing all black designer outfit. His right hand was holding a black umbrella, but in his left was bright yellow and white flowers. He stood awkwardly at the grave and finally leaned down to hide his flowers under all the others.

"I don't know if you remember me... I... work with your son. I only met you once, but I could tell you were a good woman. Loving mother... Wherever you now are, I wonder if your son's secrets are finally open to you and what you think of his other life... He's not even thirty and has already made it far in life, even if the world will never know it. I only hope it's what you would approve... I know I can't always keep him away from the dangerous situations, but I will give you my word that I will do everything in my power to keep him safe..." He chewed his lip for a moment and then stood up. "I hope you like the flowers. I wasn't sure what to bring... Rest in peace, Margaret..."

Glancing around if anyone had seen him, the man left and other than the flowers, there wasn't anything to show he had ever been there.

Meanwhile at the Eppes home, the brothers and father finally made it home and after changing their clothes, they went to spend some time with their guests. All who wished to either shake their hands, hug or let them know how sorry they were for their loss. Empty words which didn't mean a thing for the three men, but they remained polite and even tried to join the conversations, without much success.

Later that day after the last guest had left, Alan stood in the living room, staring at the emptiness that was screaming at him.

"Dad..?" Don spoke softly, but they both knew what he really was saying. _'Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?'_

"Don... Son, I... I'd like to be alone for some time..."

Don looked worried, but didn't stop him when Alan slowly disappeared in 'their' bedroom, closing the door after him. Whatever was happening behind that door was private and Don wasn't going to intervene. They all were going to need times like these for a very long time. Each one of them grieving in their own way.

Looking around the room he started slowly gathering up the empty glasses and paper plates in the house. In the kitchen, seeing his mother's photograph, Don burst into tears. Holding the picture, he slowly sat down on the floor. Sobbing silently.

"Donnie..?" The quiet voice startled Don and he looked up, seeing his brother staring at him with worried eyes. _God... He looks a mess, yet he's worrying about me... The one who left his family for such a long time and only came back when it was already too late..._

"I'm okay, buddy..." Don wiped the tears away.

"No, you're not. It's okay to cry, Donnie..."

Don swallowed hard, hearing his mother's last words to him from his little brother. "Shut up. What do you know? You wasted her last moments in some fit of madness!"

Charlie flinched, but didn't say anything. Knowing he deserved the anger. Instead he glanced around the kitchen, spotting the remains of the cake there. "Um... I know none of us ate anything... Maybe we could... Uh... Call dad and then we could..."

"I'm not hungry, Charlie! How can you even think about food right now!" Don exploded.

"Sorry..."

"_Three months_, Charlie! Not once were you there! Instead you chose that little bubble of yours and left dad and I to deal with it! We needed you! She needed you! _I_ needed you! I know you don't exactly know anything about the real world, but for _once in your life_ you could have at least _tried_!" Looking up again and seeing the lost look his brother gave him, for some reason he got only angrier. "Say something! Did you now decide to lose the ability to speak as well!?"

"I'm sorry..." Charlie mumbled and left the room in a stumbling rush.

Hitting his head against the wall, Don sighed. Looking at the photograph in his hands, he cursed softly. Getting up, he went after his brother. "Charlie!"

"...I'm sorry for calling you like this... Could you..? Uh..." Charlie's soft words and tears on his face stopped Don and he felt a stab of pain in his heart. Why did he keep taking it out on the one he loved the most?

Charlie held the phone in his trembling hand as he was talking to someone. "I really need some time to... Yeah... You would..? You are..? Could you come and get me then..? I understand if you can't... Really..? I'll... I'll get out then... Roger, thank you..."

"You're going somewhere, buddy?"

Charlie was startled, hitting his back against the wall, making Don flinch at the painful sound it made.

"I'm sorry..." he said and watched as Charlie picked up his coat and put it on. Not once looking him in the eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going with a friend... I'll... Uh... Don't worry... I'll call dad later and let him know..."

"How long?" Don cringed at the sound of that. He was sounding like a mother... _Mother_...

"I mean... So I know when to get things ready... I thought we could spend some time together... Maybe talk and... Eat that cake..."

Charlie just stared at his feet. "I'll call..."

"Charlie!" Don yelled after him, but his brother was already gone, running outside in the pouring rain. Following after him, Don barely got a glimpse of the car waiting for him, leaving him stare after the lights before the dark weather hid it from him.

Worrying, but hoping that this friend would look after Charlie, Don went back inside and decided to clean up all the remainders of the funeral and guests. By the time he was done, it was already getting late.

Alan was still in the bedroom and Charlie hadn't returned so Don found himself standing in that one room he had come to hate almost as much as the illness which took his mother from them. The garage looked like the storm from the outside had gone through it. All the blackboards were scattered around the room, mostly on the floor. Most of them had been broken and Don noticed a hammer laying over one of them.

"Oh Charlie..."

Don found himself wondering when had his brother managed to do that, without any of them noticing or hearing anything. His next action surprised him as he started cleaning up the room and even planning to buy new blackboards. Knowing how much this room meant to his brother. Not understanding it, but right now that was all that mattered to him.

It took a month before Charlie returned. Other than one phone call for Alan, they hadn't heard a word from him. He looked healthier, had even put on some weight and he was back to work few days later. The last few months remained a taboo subject for all three men for a long time.

Then the day came, when Don got a first hand evidence that his genius little brother's useless math was anything but useless. And they started working together. Spending more and more time together. While there remained unsolved issues between the two of them for a long time, their relationship kept slowly growing. Slowly improving.

Every once in a while Alan found himself looking at the two of them and smiling. "You would be so proud of our boys now, Margaret..."

_ **The End** _


End file.
